


Scorch

by Davechicken



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Injury, M/M, field medicine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-13
Updated: 2016-08-13
Packaged: 2018-08-08 12:27:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7757848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Davechicken/pseuds/Davechicken
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: trying to tend to bad burns somewhere on their body.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scorch

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



“You’re an idiot.”  


“I thought that was my line,” Hux said, trying to keep his voice level. The pain kept rising and falling like the syncing circle of a charging droid, or the pulsing of a distant star. Logic told him that it was his breathing and his heartbeat, that those twin cycles deep inside would pull and push at his limits, but he found himself trying to coast over the worst by knowing a lull would come.  


“Well, when I’m an idiot, you can call me one,” Kylo insisted. “But when _you’re_ one, I’ll tell you, too.”

“…you won’t get much chance to.”  


“Not if you pull a stunt like this again.”  


Hux honestly would like to say it wouldn’t happen again, but he was beginning to think it would be a lie. He’d… he hadn’t been thinking.

Or he had, but at a deeper level than his normally-rational mind. It had been that instinctual, truer self that pushed Kylo back and distracted him long enough to mean he couldn’t fully stop the blaster-bolt.

Apparently his hindbrain knew enough to protect his lover, but hadn’t remembered that his lover _had the Force and could freeze the shot before it ever got close_. 

His hindbrain and he needed a talk.

Once upon a time, the concept that anyone would warrant such an act - a literal _jump in front of the danger_ bodyguard moment… it had been unthinkable. Sure, he’d liked to pretend to himself that he was dedicated enough to ~~his father~~ the cause ~~his father~~  to do it for a superior officer, but then Hux had always _wanted to survive really quite badly_ so he couldn’t be certain, in the heat of the moment, that he would.

Until Kylo. Until this crazy, disorganised, emotionally volatile, Force-powered maniac walked into his life and refused to leave. (And Hux was secretly hoping he never would.)

So yeah.

He’d done it. And… he was weirdly okay with knowing Kylo meant so much to him that his unconscious - subconscious - _whatever_ \- a part of his mind valued his safety so highly. Especially considering the look in Kylo’s eyes as he gently cut away the fabric from his side. He tried to look down, but Kylo was blocking the view with one hand. 

“Look, it’s–”

“Just let me tend to it,” Kylo said. “I’m going to apply a local anaesthetic. You’re going to need it.”  


“I can’t be–”  


“Shut up, Hux.”  


Hux didn’t get any further chance to object before something hits his side and… eked into the throbbing, easing it down. He swayed, lightly, and waited for the blocker to spread deep enough in.

The pain became a mild discomfort, and no longer agony. Hux closed his eyes and breathed, letting his sense of self fight to reassert around the sudden numbness. Adrenaline from the fight was dropping fast, and he felt the fabric being pulled away from the wound, cut out and plucked from the skin that had melted into it, below. 

He tried not to imagine that. Tried not to think of how the edges of him-and-uniform had become fused into one. He had - for once - _become_ his rank. 

Once the wound was clear enough, Kylo started to dab over it with something pungent that would likely sting could he feel it. Instead, there was a spreading, cold heat from the site, and then he felt the odd sensation of tickling.

Hux couldn’t help himself; he looked down. The wound on his left side was about the size of Kylo’s fist, and thankfully not too deep. It had grazed him side-on, and it looked as if he’d gotten away lucky. It didn’t seem deep enough to scar or damage his organs, just through the layers of skin and muscle. Blasters thankfully cauterised their holes, but the antiseptic Kylo was applying, and the artificial skin layer to seal it over, would hopefully stop infection. He could see through the slightly glossy substance to the wound, but not for long because Kylo put a white bandage in place. 

He wrapped his arms around Kylo’s neck as the Knight lifted his shirt up, pinning it under his elbows as instructed, as the bandage was then cinched in and held still by a second one, belted around his lower torso and plastered into position by thin adhesive strips around his waist. He had to admire the cool efficiency and unshaking certainty of those hands. 

Kylo had clearly done things like this before. Hux knew, because he’d seen the wounds on the other’s body, and he knew that Kylo would tolerate no one but a droid medic. Which meant, in the field, that he was reliant upon himself.

“We’ll have matching scars, now,” Hux said, struck by the thought.   


“I’d rather you had none. We could have gone for tattoos if you wanted something lasting,” Kylo replied, a little snappily.  


“You save a man’s life…”  


Hux was startled by how suddenly Kylo’s face was in his own. Apparently the Knight had forgotten he was still masked from their sojourn in public, and the face-plate pressed against his nose. 

“You’re an idiot,” Kylo said, again.  


It meant so much more when he said it, just like it did when Hux did. It said: ‘I am worried about you.’ And it said: ‘I care about you’. And it said: ‘Don’t go dying on me.’

Hux curled fingers around the rear of Kylo’s helm. “Let’s just hope we take it in turns, instead of both be idiots at the same time.”

But, to be fair, Hux rarely fucked up like this. And he’d be sore for months after, now. He’d like to say he’d learned his lesson, but… if it even had the remotest chance of saving Kylo…

He’d do it again.


End file.
